When Love Finds You
by Darkchilde
Summary: On his way to Muir Island, Piotr Rasputin's whole life is changed by a chance encounter


Disclaimer: Not mine, Marvel's. Kit is mine, so don't use her with out my  
permisson. No money is being made.  
  
Author's Note: OH MY LORD!! THE WORLD IS COMING TO AN END!!  
What's happened?  
DARKCHILDE wrote a fic that didn't involve Sam or Tabitha!  
OH MY LORD!!  
  
Yes ladies and gentlemen, the impossible has happened. I wrote a fic that  
didn't involve Tabitha or Sam in any way shape or form. Neither is even  
mentioned. What is the world coming to?  
  
When Love Finds You  
  
She stood there, allowing the wind to blow through her long brown hair. Her  
eyes shut, she gripped the bar tightly. Then she let go of it and she was  
falling…  
  
"NYET!"  
  
A hand grasped her wrist. She screamed, in rage, in fear, she didn't know.  
All she knew was that she opened her mouth and allowed an ear piercing  
scream to escape. No that was wrong, she was a Braddock! She couldn't show  
emotion!  
  
The hand that gripped her arm turned out to be a strong one. Quickly, but  
gently, it pulled her over the rail, onto the other side of the bridge. And  
she came face to face with her savior.  
  
Or more accurately she came face to chest with him. He toward above her,  
the top of her head barely reaching the middle of his chest. Craning her  
head up, she found herself lost in his deep blue eyes. He was handsome, at  
lest she found him so, and very muscular. He looked something like on of  
those bodybuilders that she had seen on television.  
  
He placed his hands on her shoulders gently, and looked her right in the  
eye. When was the last time that some one had looked her in the eye?  
  
"Are you alright?" He had a thick Russian accent, and a deep voice. It was  
a nice voice she thought, and she liked his accent.  
  
"What?" She asked, just so that he would talk to her again. No one ever  
talked to her like she was a real person, like she existed.  
  
Again he looked her in the eye. "Are you alright?" He asked again, softly,  
worriedly.  
  
She then realized that he was talking to her, that he was worried about her.  
When was the last time anybody had been worried about her?  
  
Hurriedly, she nodded. "Yes, yes I'm fine." Her training, years of  
etiquette pounded into her mind forced her to add "Thank you very much."  
  
She continued to stare blankly at him, her mouth forming the words on its  
own, years of living on autopilot kicking in.  
  
He didn't respond. Instead he continued to stare at her, seemingly taking  
in her entire being with one searching gaze.  
  
"Who are you?" She finally asked.  
  
"Piotr Nikolievitch Rasputin." He told her, standing up straight. "And who,  
may I ask, are you?"  
  
She jumped. It had been a long time since someone had to ask her name.  
Normally her family introduced her.  
  
"My name?" She repeated, dumbly. "You wanna know my name?"  
  
He nodded, looking at her with a glint of worry in his deep blue eyes. It  
was aimed at her! To her knowledge, no one had ever been worried about her  
before.  
  
"I'm…" She started slowly, still staring at him in amazement "Kitrine  
Braddock."  
  
He smiled softly at her. He smiled at her! When was the last time someone  
had smiled at her?  
  
"I think," He said, his deep voice seeming to rumble up from somewhere  
inside him, "that we might need to get off of the road." He waved a hand  
behind him. "We appear to be causing quite a stir."  
  
Kit looked behind him at the cars that had pulled off the road. Pulled off  
to see the crazy woman leap from the bridge. Her feeling of self-loathing  
slowly began to rise again. Why did Piotr have to stop her? Why wasn't he  
like these people, they who would have let her leap to her doom.  
  
Piotr reached a hand out to her. She stared at him for a long second before  
she allowed herself to take it. It was a simple gesture, some would have  
given no thought to. But it meant something to Kit. It meant that there  
were people in the world that cared, that not everyone was full of hate.  
  
Slowly her lips twitched, but they didn't smile. It had been a long time  
since even that had happened so it was a good sign, she thought.  
  
Piotr lead her to a small dinner that was just off the bridge. He looked  
over at her, and gestured toward a small table near the window. Not really  
understanding, she nodded and walked slowly toward it. Once seated, she  
again stared at his face.  
  
"What happened, Miss Braddock?" He asked her, softly, still gazing at her.  
"If you don not mind me asking?" He didn't add it because of etiquette, he  
said it because he meant it.  
  
"Kit. Don't call me Miss Braddock, please." Kit told him, looking at him  
again.  
  
"Very well."  
  
Kit took a deep breath. Why was she getting ready to tell this complete  
stranger why she wanted to jump of a bridge?  
  
"I don't know." Kit mumbled, following the pattern of the table with her  
finger.  
  
"You do not know what?" He asked her gently, reaching out to touch her  
hand. She jumped, staring at his hand. When was the last time that anybody  
had touched her?  
  
She looked up at him. Tears slowly slipped down her face, as she looked  
into his concerned blue eyes. Suddenly, she didn't want to keep it all  
inside. She wanted to tell someone.  
  
"My family hates me. I don't have any friends. If I died, I doubt anyone  
would care." She intoned, her voice devoid of emotion.  
  
"Your family hates you?" Piotr asked her gently.  
  
Kit nodded, her long brown hair flipping into her eyes. She pushed it back,  
her eyes still locked on the table. "Because I killed my mother."  
  
"How?" Piotr asked, a hint of shock in his voice.  
  
"She died when I was born." Kit explained.  
  
"That was not you fault." He told her.  
  
"Yes it is. If I'd never been born, my mother would still be alive." Kit  
stated firmly.  
  
"How do you know that?" Piotr questioned.  
  
"That's what they told me." She said.  
  
"Who told you?" Piotr demanded.  
  
"My father, my sister, and my two brothers." Kit whispered.  
  
Piotr was silent for a long time. Kit looked up after almost ten minutes of  
silence. He was looking at her with a strange look on his face. She  
crinkled her eyebrows at his expression but didn't say anything.  
  
Then to her surprise, Piotr reached out to gently encircle her fingers with  
his own. No one had ever held her hand before. She looked down at his  
hands, they were big like the rest of him, but also something else.  
  
Kit looked up at him suddenly. "Are you an artist?"  
  
He looked at her in surprise. "Da, I am. But I am not a very good one. How  
did you know?"  
  
"You have the hands of an artist." She said.  
  
He lifted his left hand, while leaving his right holding hers. He looked at  
it closely for a long second then put it back down. He still looked vaguely  
confused, but he was smiling.  
  
"How can you tell?" He asked her.  
  
Kit just shrugged. "I don't know."  
  
"Do you like art?" Piotr asked her, tipping his head to one side.  
  
Kit nodded eagerly. "I love art!"  
  
"Do you paint or draw or anything?" Piotr asked her.  
  
Kit found herself blushing. She had never told anybody about her own  
paintings, even though she had plenty of them. To her own surprise, Kit  
founded herself nodding.  
  
"Really?" Piotr asked.  
  
"Would you like to see them?" I can't believe I just said that! Kit  
screamed at herself.  
  
"Da." Piotr agreed.  
  
"Okay."  
  
The two finally rose from the table and left the tiny restaurant. Kit then  
turned left, and Piotr followed her, walking next to her.  
  
They walked a little of the way to Kit's flat in silence until Piotr asked  
"Why do you say that you have no friends?"  
  
Kit looked up at him, and suddenly remembered what they had been talking  
about before their conversation on art.  
  
Kit twirled her hair around her finger. "I guess it's because I never  
learned how. I mean, my family hated me, I guess I just thought that the  
rest of the world would hate me too."  
  
"I find the thought of hating you a difficult one to swallow." Piotr told  
her earnestly.  
  
"Why? You don't know me." Kit objected out of habit.  
  
"I know I only meet you just, " He looked down at his watch, "three hours  
ago--"  
  
"Three hours ago?!" Kit asked in amazement. "It's been three hours  
already?!"  
  
"Da, it has been three hours." Piotr told her, seemingly as surprised as  
she was.  
  
"Sheesh." Kit muttered under her breath.  
  
Piotr heard her and grinned. They soon reached the door of Kit's tiny flat,  
and Kit went to unlock the door.  
  
"It's a little messy." Kit apologized, kicking a rag of some sort out to  
the way.  
  
"My younger sister's was much worse." He told her, smiling.  
  
"You have a sister?" She asked.  
  
Piotr's face clouded. He looked away for a second. "I had a younger sister.  
She…died."  
  
"I'm sorry." Kit whispered.  
  
"It is alright. You were going to show me you paintings?" Piotr rapidly  
changed the subject.  
  
"Oh, yeah. Come on, I put them in here." Kit walked to one of the closed  
doors. Pushing it open, she beckoned for him to follow. Piotr walked after  
her.  
  
Several paintings hung from the wall and even more were propped up against  
it. All of them were a riot of colors, mixing in strange ways and patterns.  
  
"Well," Kit was nervous, you could hear it in her voice, "what do you  
think?"  
  
"I think they are beautiful." Piotr told her, looking over all the  
paintings in the room.  
  
"You do?" Kit sounded shocked.  
  
"I do." Piotr told her laughing at the shock on her face. " They are  
marvelous!"  
  
Kit smiled "Thank you."  
  
They stayed in the room for a long time, looking at Kit's paintings. Piotr  
offered sound advice o technique, color use and many other aspects of  
painting. It was good to have someone to talk to, Kit thought to herself.  
  
"Tell me about you." Kit said suddenly.  
  
"What do you wish to know about me?" Piotr asked, turning from one of her  
paintings.  
  
"I-I don't know. Just something, anything. It's nice to finally meet  
somebody who'll take the time to talk to me." Kit said, blushing shyly.  
  
Piotr seemed to think about it awhile. "I was born in the Soviet Union on a  
small collective farm. I had an older brother, and my younger sister."  
  
"Had an older brother?" Kit asked.  
  
"He too, is dead. All my family is dead, actually." Piotr said, his voice  
sad. Kit walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"I'm sorry." Kit whispered.  
  
"It is alright." Piotr answered, touching her hand. Kit smiled softly at  
him.  
  
"So how did you wind up in England?" Kit asked, leaning her head to one  
side. Piotr let out a long laugh.  
  
"That my friend, is a long story."  
  
"I've got nothing to do." Kit replied.  
  
So for several hours, Piotr told her about his life. She listened,  
spellbound, by it all. She cried at parts, and died laughing in others. It  
was daybreak by the time that he was finally finished.  
  
"Wow." Kit said after he was through. "I don't know whether to believe  
you, or call the psyche ward."  
  
To her relief, he broke out laughing. "Oh you think so?"  
  
Kit broke into a large smile. "Yeah I do."  
  
Piotr stopped laughing after a minute but still his eyes sparkled. "I will  
let you in on a little secret. Sometimes, I think of signing myself into a  
mental hospital, myself."  
  
Kit began to laugh again, tears of humor splashing down her face. Piotr  
grinned again, taking a sip of his coffee.  
  
"Let's go out to breakfast. I'm starvin'." Kit suggested after they finally  
quite laughing.  
  
"Perhaps the best suggestion that I have heard yet." Piotr agreed.  
  
They left Kit's flat and walked the short distance to a small café that Kit  
knew about. After a leisurely breakfast, they walked around London for a  
bit. Kit played tour guide for Piotr, as he had never really gotten around  
to seeing very much of the city on all his other trips here.  
  
Around noon the two of them stopped for a quick bit of lunch at yet another  
restaurant. After lunch they decided to stop at an art museum. They  
browsed through the exhibits for hours, arguing over what they meant and  
just simply admiring them.  
  
It was shortly after six when they left the museum. Neither of them was  
very hungry, so they simply wondered around the city some more. Some how  
they found themselves on the same bridge where they had met last night.  
Leaning against the rail they watched the sun drop down over the horizon.  
  
"So what are you going to do now?" Kit asked, turning to face Piotr.  
  
"What do you mean?" He asked, surprised.  
  
"Where are you going to go? What are you going to do?" Kit explained her  
question.  
  
Piotr looked back over the water for a long time. "I do not know, Kit. I  
can not go back to the X-Men. I can not go home. I feel as though I am  
lost."  
  
"You told me that you were coming her to join Excaliber." Kit reminded him,  
studying his profile. He turned to look t her.  
  
"That is true. Maybe I will do that." He considered.  
  
"I'd like that." Kit whispered.  
  
"Why?" He asked, gazing at her.  
  
"Because…you'd be around. I could maybe get to see you some…that is if  
you'd want to." Kit hurriedly added.  
  
Piotr broke out into a smile. "I would like very much to be able to see you  
again, Kit."  
  
Kit smiled back. Piotr slowly moved to her, and tipped her head back. "You  
are perhaps one of the most interesting women I have ever met."  
  
"That's saying something there." Kit whispered, pushing her self up on her  
toes.  
  
Slowly they met in a soft kiss. They broke after a few minutes but stayed  
in each others' arms, just enjoying the feeling.  
  
"Will you write to me?" Kit asked softly.  
  
"Everyday. And I will call you too, as often as possible." Piotr promised.  
  
"Good." Kit murmured.  
  
That evening, Piotr climbed aboard an airplane headed for Scotland. Kit was  
there to see him off.  
  
"I will call you when I get there." Piotr promised, hugging the brunette.  
  
"You'd better." Kit teased. "Or I'll have to fly to Scotland and kick your  
butt."  
  
Piotr laughed. She was very changed from the woman he had met last night.  
He found himself missing her already.  
  
"I will, Kit." He said again, bending down to kiss her softly.  
  
"See ya around." Kit whispered, after they broke from one another.  
  
"Dos Vandiya.(1)" Piotr replied, stepping away from her.  
  
The night, when Piotr arrived in Scotland, and caught a ferry to Muir  
Island, Kit was never far from his mind. If this does not work out, he  
promised himself, I will go to London to be with her. Fate works in  
mysterious ways.  
  
As Piotr got off the ferry, he saw one of the last things he expected to  
see. Kitty Pryde and some man were kissing. To his surprise, he felt no  
hatred, only a touch of regret. And that only lasted for a second. He  
contemplated leaving them to their business, but was not given the chance.  
Kitty caught sight of him, after she pulled away from her 'friend'.  
  
"PIOTR! What are you doing here?" Kitty called, running over to him.  
  
Piotr smiled at the girl. "It is good to see you Kitty. Who is…?" He  
gestured toward the man standing behind her.  
  
"Oh! Pete this is Piotr Rasputin. Piotr, this is Pete Wisdom." Kitty  
said, pulling Pete up next to her.  
  
"Nice to meet you." Piotr said politely. "Tell me Kitty, do you know where  
I can find a phone?"  
  
The End  
  
1) Does anybody know how to spell this? And did I spell it anywhere close  
to the way it actually is spelled?  
  
2nd Author's Note: I realize that I kinda skimped on Kit and everything.  
If you really want to know some more about her, maybe I'll write a sequel.  
What say you?  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
